


these battle scars don't look like they're fading

by angelica_barnes



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Abuse, M/M, fighting for love and for each other, zayn takes care of all of them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 18:44:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14455467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelica_barnes/pseuds/angelica_barnes
Summary: zayn and liam are in love and so are louis and harry but there's so much sadness and hands touching them and when they go to bed at night they never want to wake up again but zayn makes them and they survive but it's not living.





	these battle scars don't look like they're fading

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from "Battle Scars" by Lupe Fiasco & Guy Sebastian

Every day is a fight; backstage, behind the scenes, in the dark, whatever you want to call it. It’s hidden, it’s a secret, and they say nothing. Niall comes back with bruises, Louis’ eyes are slowly turning black, Harry cries, Liam nearly tears his hair out in worry, and Zayn doesn’t feel.

He can’t allow himself to, or he’ll crumble.

 

 

-

 

Louis loses it first. It’s dark out, it’s midnight, and he stumbles in with cuts and bruises and he collapses; luckily, Harry’s there to catch him, but barely. The rest of them exchange a worried look as Liam rushes to get the first aid kit - they have to use it way more often than they should.

He hands it to Zayn and Zayn kisses the back of Liam’s hand, causing the boy to blush, before unzipping it and pulling out bandages and antibiotics and creams. He leans down and starts to work his magic, kissing each wound softly better before applying the medicine and wrapping it in the bandages.

Harry’s tears fall on Louis’ face as he whispers sweet nothings to him, the boy’s eyelids fluttering as he fights for consciousness.

It isn’t granted.

 

 

-

 

They’re careful with Louis now; they don’t let him get up as much and they notice that he talks the same amount as Zayn now. Hardly.

Harry goes insane second, his eyes turning crazed with a want and need and longing and his fingers twitch. He reaches out when no one’s there to touch, he talks when nobody’s there to answer. The others are worried, and Zayn stays with him when he sleeps, in fear of the boy’s thrashing nightmares.

Once Harry had said he was afraid of the dark, and Zayn can’t help but wish that that wasn’t the case. He kisses Harry’s head goodnight, and ignores it when Harry asks about Delilah, and Noelle, and Olivia and Diana.

When Harry murmurs that he misses Louis, that Louis’ gone, Zayn can feel his heart begin to crack and he quickly gasps, shaking himself from it.

“No,” he says softly. “No, Louis is in the bed right next to you, Harry.”

 

 

-

 

The next meeting they have, in the grey room with the thick walls and broken security cameras; the cameras have been punched, broken glass pierces the skin of the knuckles that the bad men slam against the table. Glass, broken and fragile and shattering, it compares all too well to their hearts at this point.

“You’ve done something wrong,” seems to be the only thing they ever hear. “You’ve done this, you’ve done that, you need to fix it. Kiss her, marry her, love her.”

Zayn can’t, Liam can’t, none of them can. They’ve apologized, they’ve begged for mercy on their knees, they’ve tried and tried and tried. One foot in front of the other, down a long path that always seems endless, with only blank white ahead of them. There are footprints left in the dirt though, so there’s gotta be something; other people have followed this road before.

Apparently to insanity, they learn too late.

 

 

-

 

Niall breaks within the three seconds it takes for them to say he’s not pretty; Zayn and Liam try to feed him but he’ll eat nothing. The leftovers go bad, his smile becomes fake and too pearly white, and Zayn has to hide the shaving razors under his mattress so Niall can’t slit his wrists.

They find him asleep in front of the TV one night, drool dribbling down his cheek and onto the floor. He’s tangled in a blanket, limbs knotted and trapping the cloth; Zayn picks him up bridal style and lays him down on the closest bed. He and Liam clean up in silence.

Niall blinks groggily when he wakes up, too exhausted to stay awake, but he can see Zayn with Liam’s arms around him; he can hear Zayn ask Liam if they’re too tired to be in love anymore, but he falls back to the dreams before Liam answers.

“I don’t know,” was what Liam eventually said, “I don’t know, Zayn, but I know I love you now.”

 

 

-

 

Liam is the second to last, or maybe he’s the last, to fall apart. Zayn shushes him, kissing his hair and murmuring just how much he loves him, but Liam just gasps for air and doesn’t let himself believe. Zayn is gorgeous, is the thing, and Liam is average and dorky and nobody could ever appreciate his matureness; he’s supposed to be fun and drink and dance with strange girls, right? He’s supposed to laugh at love and play pranks and dress like a gangsta, right?

Zayn tells him no, that he loves Liam the way he is, but how could he? Liam is too bossy, too un-fun, too stupid, too thick, too ugly, too rough, too angry; “You’re beautiful,” Zayn says. “You’re fun and smart and clever and gentle and sweet and so, so kind…” And he goes on but Liam tunes him out; he hates when Zayn lies to him, and Zayn hates when Liam doesn’t listen, doesn’t learn.

Liam squeezes his eyes shut, trying to block out the imaginary voices that fuel his insecurities and deepest fears;  _ Zayn doesn’t love you,  _ stop,  _ why don’t you just give up? _

He could fall asleep and wake up in Zayn’s arms a million times and it wouldn’t matter; he’d still think that Zayn’s love for him is pity.

 

 

-

 

Everything is at its boiling point; Louis sleeps while Harry coughs next to him, Niall either stares at the wall or out the window, and Liam just constantly needs Zayn to touch him. Sometimes he wonders when Zayn sleeps; one night he sees the purple bags under Zayn’s eyes and he understands, Zayn doesn’t sleep.

Zayn tucks them in at night, he kisses each of them on the temple (Louis) or cheek (Niall) or nose (Liam) or hair (Harry). Then he stays up until they’re asleep, and when they are, he sits on the edge of Harry’s bunk, waiting.

Harry will toss and turn and wake up with a scream of pure terror and beads of sweat shining on his forehead in the moonlight. Zayn will be there, with open arms, and he’ll cradle the boy and rock him and whisper that it’s alright until Harry stops crying and falls back into blackness, because other than the nightmares he doesn’t dream.

Then he’ll move on to Niall, who will murmur things and reach out for someone to hold and cuddle and be close to, and Zayn will be right there, next to him. Eventually Niall’s tight grip will loosen as he smiles in his sleep, and Zayn will kiss his cheek softly before crossing the small gap to Louis’.

Louis won’t move, so dead to the world that the only thing Zayn does there is check his pulse, lifting his wrist and pressing a kiss to it, waiting for the thump. Then he’ll trace each of Louis’ tattoos with his pointer finger and lean down to whisper, “Harry loves you.” And then he moves on, after carding a gentle hand through Louis’ scruffy hair.

He’ll climb up the ladder to Liam’s bunk, and he’ll kiss the boy’s face all over lightly, so as not to wake him, and then he’ll settle in for the night. He feels warm in Liam’s arms, safe, but in the morning, he doesn’t remember the feeling at all.

Neither do they.

 

 

-

 

Zayn can’t help but stare in the mirror sometimes, after they’re all asleep and before he crawls in beside Liam. His eyes are dark, but more than usual, and too tired to be his own, he thinks. His hair is messy, unbrushed and raven as ever; he remembers when Liam used to run his fingers through it and whisper, “It’s so soft, Zaynie.”

Of course, that was back when everything was okay.

Nothing’s okay now, absolutely nothing at all, and Zayn feels like Atlas with the sky (Louis) resting on his shoulders, but he’s also gotta hold the sun (Niall) and the stars (Harry) and the moon (Liam), and the world (himself) in both of his hands. He grunts in response to the pain, but he never dares drop one of these precious beings.

It hurts, it hurts, everything hurts, and Zayn strives for the ability to stay alive. Right now he’s just surviving; it’s barely living and it’s barely breathing, but he has them in the safety zone for now, so it’s alright.

He’ll worry about himself later.

 

 

-

 

The lights are bright, too bright. The people are screaming loudly, too loudly. The air is fastly disappearing, too fastly.

Any life is scarce, too scarce.

It’s too hard to tell the truth, to let themselves give in, to let themselves scream out their pain and despair.

Zayn walks in, limping slightly from being stepped on. His arms hang at his sides, boney and skinny and his body is the same size. His face is gaunt, his eyes are too tired, and the faintest smile graces his lips when he sees his boys waiting for him.

“Is everyone alright?” He asks, voice raspy and hoarse and broken, and Liam steps forward. His eyes are clouded with worry, as are the others, but Liam’s got feelings that are magnified by a thousand.

Finally, Zayn can’t help but think, someone understands. Someone gets it.

“Yeah,” Liam says softly, taking Zayn’s hands in his own, “but are you?”

The tears that he’s been holding back fall as soon as the weakness in the dam is found, and he falls forward into Liam’s arms, burying his face in the boy’s chest. The others join them, huddling around Zayn and holding him in comfort, and it feels so damn good to  _ cry _ .

Finally, finally, Zayn allows himself to crumble.


End file.
